


Knock Off James Bond

by yaxuxi



Series: my soul chose yours [4]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, First Dates, Fluff, M/M, Unexpected Meetings, vague violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 04:46:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14866863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaxuxi/pseuds/yaxuxi
Summary: “Sorry dude. I just realized that you are not the person I was hired to kill. See ya!”Mark stared at the suddenly empty space.“What the fuck?”orYukhei is an assassin that just won't leave Mark alone.





	Knock Off James Bond

**Author's Note:**

> if u ship markhei come find me on twt @ yaxuxi !!!

“Sorry dude. I just realized that you are  _ not  _ the person I was hired to kill. See ya!” 

Mark stared at the suddenly empty space, mouth hanging open and heart still racing from the events that had just transpired. 

“What the fuck?”

. 

 

Mark liked to think he lived an exciting life, but when it came down to it —it was pretty boring. He woke up every day at exactly 9 am, grabbed coffee with Renjun or Donghyuck, went to his 11 am class, worked a shift at Dreamies Coffee, went to his 5 pm class, and finished his day by working the graveyard shift at the cafe, where the neighborhood insomniacs would swing by for coffee at odd hours. 

So to say he was surprised when his schedule was suddenly interrupted was an understatement. 

. 

 

“Okay. Wait. You’re telling me that the hottest guy you have ‘ever laid your eyes on’ tried to  _ kill  _ you? Are you sure you just haven’t read too many fanfics?” Donghyuck rolled his eyes, pulling his apron on as he slid over the counter to join Mark. 

“No joke. Held a gun to my face and everything,” Mark huffed, turning back to finish making the typical complicated order that their patrons liked to order. 

“And what? He just let you go?” Jaemin interrupted, face scrunched up as he concentrated on the coffee art, but skepticism dripping from his voice. 

“That was the weird part. You’d think assassins were more, I don’t know,  _ secretive _ , but this guy just flat told me I wasn’t his target before disappearing.” Mark grabbed a towel and began wiping the counter down; it was already 12:30 am, meaning the last few stragglers of the night still had two hours till they showed up. 

“It honestly just sounds like you need a boyfriend,” Donghyuck raised an eyebrow, muttering a curse when Mark kicked him on reflex. 

“I don’t think I’d even be able to recognize him if I saw him again,” Mark mumbled, trying to remember back to last week’s events. He had only caught a glimpse of the man behind the barrel of the gun; his eyes had automatically squeezed shut from fear when he had suddenly been grabbed and dragged into an alley. It had been difficult to memorize his captor’s face when he thought he was experiencing his final moments on earth. 

“And yet he’s the definition of prince charming,” Jaemin said dryly, throwing his towel at Mark with a roll of his eyes (Mark was offended at the amount of times his best friends had rolled their eyes at him). 

“You probably won’t even see him again. If he’s real that is,” Donghyuck added, shrieking and running away when Mark lunged towards him. 

“You’re probably right, Hyuck.” 

. 

 

He was  _ not  _ right. 

“What the hell are you doing in my apartment?” Mark deadpanned, standing still in his doorway. His groceries had slid out of his hands and dropped to the ground, the strawberry ice cream slowly melting out onto his wooden floor. 

“I liked the—,” The man waved his hands around, head swivelling to take in the apartment, “—ambience of your place. And I was in the area, so I decided to crash. Didn’t think you’d be back home so soon?” He held up his hands with a guilty but not really guilty look on his face, grinning.

Mark gasped; he had stopped listening to (what was his name anyways?) him midway through the sentence, eyes catching hints of red on his (previously) pristine white couch. 

“Is that  _ blood _ ? On my fucking couch? Oh my god, you really are an assassin. Who did you kill? Wait, don’t tell me, I’ll become an accessory to murder. Wait, why am I not freaking out more about this? Don’t say a word,” Mark held a finger up to silence him when he saw the other open his mouth. “This is a disaster. Do you know how much it’ll cost to repair my couch? This could cost me more than two hundred dollars! Oh my god, I can’t afford that, I’m a broke college student. I’m going to have blood on my couch forever. Damn you, Mr.Assassin.” 

“......Are you done?” He asked, smiling nervously when Mark squinted up at him, a permanent scowl painting his face. A tense silence stretched out as the two stared at each other (And no, Mark was definitely not about to lowkey pop a boner just by looking at his face because that would be ridiculous. But God, how could someone have eyes that wide and lips that looked like they were taken straight out of some cosmetic surgeon’s pamphlet?) 

A sudden beeping broke the silence as well as their staring contest. Mark tried to get a peek of the screen, offended when the other simply held his phone above Mark’s head. He was greeted with a sheepish smile from the other a few seconds later, phone sliding back into his pocket. 

“Unfortunately, I do have to go. Nice seeing you again, Mark,” The man saluted him, and Mark felt himself unconsciously raise a hand to wave back. 

“Hold on! You haven’t even told me your name yet you have the audacity to bleed all over my couch?” 

“It’s Wong. Wong Yukhei.” A grin, and then he was gone. It was only after Mark had securely put his ice cream in the freezer did he realize that the assassin had made a (lame) james bond reference. 

 

Two days later, Mark woke up to a venmo transfer (venmo? Of all things?) of 300 dollars with a note that read:  _ “For your couch. Maybe we’ll see eachother again. You’re cute when you’re mad, but I’d rather see a smile on your face. ;)  _ — _ Yukhei”  _

. 

 

“I don’t have time to deal with you right now Jaehyun,” Mark sighed, pinching the bridge of nose when his usual headache rolled up to the counter with a shit eating grin on his face, accompanied by a bored (probably stoned) Johnny behind him. 

“It’ll be quick, I swear,” Jaehyun smiled that smile of his that told you to run as far as you could because whatever he was about to ask/tell you, it wasn’t going to be pretty. 

“He wants to ask about your assassin lover boy,” Johnny drawled, followed by a long sip of his extra large coffee (he had three a day, and frankly, Mark was worried for his organs). 

“Jesus Nana, did you tell the entire fucking campus?” Mark scowled, wringing his towel and whipping it out to smack Jaemin on the back, who flipped him the middle finger before continuing with his calculus homework. It was an hour before the morning shift would start, and Mark’s brain had officially entered dead hours, so he couldn’t fathom how Jaemin was alert enough to do calculus. 

“Chill. I only texted it in our group chat, which you’d know if you knew how to use any shape or form of modern technology other than uber eats, and even then, you ask Chenle for help.” Jaemin pulled his phone out and scrolled to show Mark where he had texted about Mark’s current dilemma. 

“So, is he really as hot as you say? Can you take a photo next time? Can I get his number?” Jaehyun leaned over the counter until he was in Mark’s personal space, his grin filling up his vision. 

“Aren’t you two dating?” Mark raised his eyebrows, pointing at Johnny and Jaehyun, who had identical, playful looks on their faces. 

“Just because I’m out of money doesn’t mean I can’t window shop,” Jaehyun cackled and Mark  _ really  _ wished he hadn’t said hi to the elder on his first day of university (but then again, if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have met half of his friend group). 

“That’s the worst analogy you could have used.” 

“Anyways, tell me more about lover boy.” 

“All of you need to stop calling him that, he literally tried to kill me.” 

.

 

The first time all of his friends met Yukhei had been a normal night (well, as normal as it can get when you’re friends with Johnny, Jaehyun, Jaemin, Donghyuck, Renjun, Jeno, Taeil, and Yuta). 

“Game night is literally the nerdiest thing in the entire world,” Jaehyun groaned into the couch, expertly avoiding the Sorry piece that Taeil chucked at him (his aim was deadly, and Mark had been the unlucky target of many of his missiles). 

“Then why do you keep coming?” Taeil threw another Sorry piece, succeeding when it hit Jaehyun smack in the middle of his forehead with a dull thump. 

“Why does it sound hollow when I hit your forehead?” Taeil asked with a frown, intently staring at Jaehyun’s forehead like it could answer his question. 

“It’s because he has half a brain cell,” Yuta replied, screeching when Jaehyun tackled him moments later. Mark rolled his eyes, looking heavenward.  _ God, if you’re listening, I don’t associate with these heathens. I’m a good person. I gave my last fry away once. And I didn’t even cry.  _

The sound of Mark’s front door opening with a bang shut everyone up, eyes flying to the direction of the living room. They were all situated in Mark’s bedroom, scattered on various pieces of furniture. 

“Expecting someone?” Donghyuck asked with a raised eyebrow, already standing up to inspect the situation. Mark shook his head, grabbing the candlestick on his vanity. All of their guards rose when they heard loud shuffling sounds followed by a bang and cursing. 

“Oh my god, is this like Die Hard? I don’t want to die hard,” Jeno whispered, edging closer to Renjun and Jaemin, hands clasped around a large game board (Mark wasn’t really sure how that would help, but considering the most dangerous thing out of all nine of them was a candlestick, they were fucked either way). 

Mark led the charge, gulping as he floundered for the light switch, candlestick trembling in his left hand. He could feel Donghyuck grasping onto one edge of his hoodie while Renjun grabbed onto the other. He flicked the light switch up with a yell, echoed by his friends. 

“Uh….hello?” 

Yukhei. Wong _ fucking  _ Yukhei. Mark dropped his candlestick, jaw dropping along with it. 

“Yukhei, what the fuck,” Was apparently all Mark was capable of saying these days.  

.

 

“Yukhei, what the ACTUAL fuck,” Mark screamed, nearly dropping to his knees from fear. He had exited his bathroom after a shower, clad in grey sweatpants and fuzzy socks, only to nearly piss himself when he caught Yukhei’s reflection in his vanity mirror. The aforementioned was currently laying on his bed, munching on….hot cheetos? 

“Are those  _ my  _ cheetos?” Mark gasped when Yukhei shot him a guilty smile (but he didn’t stop eating the cheetos). Mark made to storm out of his room (to god knows where) but stopped when Yukhei suddenly patted the spot next to him. 

Mark grudgingly sat next to him, arms crossed as he leaned back on one of his pillows. They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds being the crunching of cheetos and the crinkling of the bag as it was passed between the two. 

“Why haven’t you called the cops on me yet?” Yukhei broke it, turning to face him. Something was different. Mark searched Yukhei’s eyes; he was serious. The two had had various conversations in the past three months, ranging from surprise meetings at the grocery store all the way to that one time Yukhei appeared in his bathroom window when Mark had been on the toilet (he still heard Yukhei’s loud laughter in his nightmares). And all of their meetings had been ridiculous and light hearted, dancing around each other with shields of sarcasm and flirting. 

“I….I don’t know. You told me your agency is only responsible for deaths of corrupt leaders and politicians, so I don't really feel scared around you. I trust you,” Mark answered honestly, not breaking eye contact. 

"And you believe me?" Yukhei kept making eye contact, but Mark caught the slight waver in his voice. He was scared of Mark's answer. 

"Yes." Yukhei searched his eyes for something, and Mark supposes he found it, because he looked away with a smile. 

“Okay.”

“Okay.” 

“Maybe okay will be our always,” Yukhei turned to him with a sly grin, howling with laughter when Mark’s face filled with disgust. 

“I’m calling the cops.” 

. 

 

“Oh my god,” Yukhei wheezed, face contorting in pain as he was carried to the kitchen island by Johnny—the only one who even remotely matched Yukhei in height. Mark had almost forgotten how tall the other was, eyebrows jumping when he noticed that Yukhei was slightly larger than Johnny. 

“What happened?” Mark asked, pulling the first aid kid out from his cabinet, ignoring the shocked looks on his friends’ faces. Mark had only bought the kit as a precaution, spending hours the following night googling how to sew stitches and deal with knife wounds or bullet wounds. He didn’t think he’d actually have to use it. Yukhei groaned, vaguely pointing at his stomach. Mark’s stomach churned as he peeled Yukhei’s shirt off him, feeling squeamish when he saw an alarming amount of red coating his abdomen. 

Realization dawned on Donghyuck first, turning to stare at Yukhei and Mark with wide eyes. The others hadn’t caught on yet, still stuck in defense mode, holding the various items they had grabbed half heartedly in their hands. 

“I can’t believe he’s real,” Donghyuck whispered, reaching out but not quite touching Yukhei, mouth shaped into a small ‘o’. Mark rolled his eyes, shoving the roll of gauze in Donghyuck’s hands as he worked on cleaning the wound with rubbing alcohol (it was a fight to not gag and throw up on Yukhei, because that would definitely win him brownie points). 

“Uh, Mark? Pardon my french, but who the fuck is this?” Yuta asked, looking between Yukhei and Mark with hesitation, clutching Mark’s alarm clock to his chest. 

“This is Mr.Assassin, also known as Yukhei. Yukhei, these are my friends.” Yukhei weakly waved but chuckled, giving Mark a look that said  _ “we will talk about that horrendous nickname later.”  _

“Hold the fuck up—” 

“—the fuck?” 

“HOLY SH—” 

“—uh what” 

“For real? Holy fucking hell your life is literally a fanfic, I’m—” 

“HE’S REAL?!” 

Mark sighed, dropping his head onto Yukhei’s shoulder. He felt laughter rumble through Yukhei’s body, jostling him slightly. 

“You can also refer to me as Mark’s future boyfriend,” Yukhei winked lazily, yelping when Mark smacked him (he felt guilty immediately after he saw the wound on Yukhei’s stomach again). 

“More like a pain in my ass.” 

“Wow, we did not need to know about your sexual life.” 

“Johnny you have three seconds to run before I end your life.” 

.

 

Fear was foreign to Yukhei. Even during missions, he was never really afraid. Most of the time it was boredom or amusement over Doyoung and Taeyong clucking over him like a mother hen on the comms. If it was a big assignment, he got excited (and later scolded for acting like a child by Taeyong). The only time he had really gotten scared was when he saw Jungwoo get shot by a stray bullet as they were escaping the scene, and the memory had haunted him for weeks. 

But if he had to explain his current emotions, fear would be the most encompassing of them all. Sure, a little rage was mixed in. But it was mainly fear. 

“H-hyung,” Yukhei’s voice shook as he turned his bluetooth back on, pacing in Mark’s living room. The door had been wide open, which was odd in and of itself, but the entire apartment was vacant. Mark  _ knew  _ Yukhei came by every other day at the same time, and he had even texted him saying that his friends would be over today too (because Donghyuck and Johnny wanted to talk to him apparently). Yukhei had called Mark’s phone, fear growing in the pit of his stomach when it went straight to voicemail. 

“—xi? Xuxi. Talk to me. What’s happening?” Doyoung’s voice filtered through, instantly calming Yukhei down. He had known Doyoung before he began this career—rather, Doyoung had introduced Yukhei, fresh out of the military and fired from his job as a bodyguard (just because he had smacked the bratty CEO’s kid, and to be fair, he definitely had it coming), to his current job. Contract killing. 

“I—Mark’s not here and he knew I was coming and oh my god what if he moved because he doesn’t want to meet me anymore. Wait, but all his stuff is still here. Does he hate me that much that he blasted and didn’t even take his stuff? But wait, Mark wouldn’t do something that stupid. Would he? Oh my god,” Yukhei rambled, nearly making himself cry. He was overthinking it because the other option was far more terrifying. 

“Xuxi. Listen to me carefully, and do  _ not  _ make a rash decision. Understand?” Yukhei hummed in response, holding his breath over whatever Doyoung was about to tell him. 

“I traced the cctv footage in the area surrounding Mark’s apartment, and although it’s blurry, we found a clip of four men in all black carrying three limp bodies into a large van. One of the bodies was unnaturally tall, but the other two perfectly fit Mark and Donghyuck’s heights. I’m sending you the clip now.” 

Yukhei silently watched the video, lips pressed into a thin line. He recognized that van. It was one of their rivaling agencies: YG. And he knew Doyoung knew he would recognize it too. It was a good thing Yukhei knew exactly where YG’s “secret” headquarters was; he had staked it out months ago. Yukhei should have known. And now Mark had been fucking kidnapped. 

“Put Sicheng on the comms,” Yukhei ordered, his voice flat. He knew Doyoung wouldn’t give him what he needed right now, too worried about his safety. But he didn’t need safety right now. 

Doyoung sighed; there was no point in arguing with Yukhei at this point. He recognized the cold tone of his voice—he had slipped into his persona during missions. 

“Okay. Connecting Sicheng.”

...

“Sicheng ge, I need a few things…” 

. 

 

“Mark, what the fuck is going on?” Donghyuck hissed under his breath, shooting a dirty look behind him when he was roughly shoved forward by one of the goons surrounding them. Johnny was limping next to him; one of the jackasses had hit Johnny’s leg with a baton when he had mouthed off. Mark winced, wrapping his arm Johnny’s mid section tighter. 

“Do you think I know?” Mark whispered back, wincing when one of the kidnappers turned around, amusement evident on his face. 

“We kidnapped you as lure,” Goon number one answered, looking Mark up and down before leering. “But maybe we’ll have some fun with you instead.” 

“Don’t you dare touch him!” Donghyuck lunged forward, only to be slapped and shoved into Mark. He wrapped his other arm around Donghyuck, spitting at goon number two. Lure for who? 

“We’ve been trying to get Yukhei to show his face to us for years, and when one of our informants told us he had a soft spot for you, of course we jumped on the opportunity,” One of them answered like he had read Mark’s mind, a smirk slowly growing on his face. 

Mark felt chills run down his spine. He was Yukhei’s weakness. He was putting Yukhei in danger. Even though they had known each other for more than half a year at this point, he hadn’t seen Yukhei in action. He didn’t know if he was better than these men. Mark gulped, holding his tongue as he bundled Johnny and Donghyuck closer to him. 

The fear gnawed at his stomach—not just for himself, but for Yukhei. 

. 

 

“—ke up. Mark, WAKE UP,” Yukhei screamed, his voice going hoarse. Mark bounced in Yukhei’s arms as they ran through YG’s complex; he had gotten Donghyuck and Johnny out with Ten’s help, but couldn’t get Mark out in time due to them being discovered. 

Mark was unconscious in Yukhei’s arms, and while he would love this situation normally (he may have fantasized about cradling Mark in his arms before), his body was becoming a dead weight and it was becoming difficult to dodge bullets  _ and  _ sprint to the exit when he had to carry someone around. 

Yukhei saw Mark’s eyes flutter open for a second, only to slide shut again. He sighed, flipping his hair back as he rounded a corner in a split second to avoid a bullet. 

“When you wake up, I’m going to beat your ass.” 

.

 

Mark woke up to silence, only broken by the occasional grunts. He slowly opened his eyes, hissing when the light hit his eyes. It burned, feeling like a thousand tiny needles were stabbing his eyes. The grunting suddenly cut off, and he felt a pair of large hands cradling his face. Mark opened his eyes, vision flooded by Yukhei’s wide eyes and pursed lips, pulled down into a frown. 

“Well, at least you’re awake,” Yukhei muttered, turning Mark’s head to the left and right before letting go with a small groan. Mark groggily pushed himself up off the floor, pushing a hand to his forehead. He felt like he was going to throw up, and the vague smell of piss and sewage wasn’t helping. 

They were squished together in a small alcove; Mark could hear Yukhei’s name being shouted followed by vague yelling around the complex, but they were far away enough that he couldn’t make out anything distinct. 

It was only when Yukhei groaned again did Mark’s eyes focus on his leg, eyes widening before a hand flew to cover his mouth. Bile rose in his mouth, eyes watering as he took Yukhei in. The other man was shining with sweat, slowly breathing through his nose as he worked to carefully dislodge a knife that had gone almost clear through his upper thigh, sticking out the top at a frightening angle. 

“Yukhei, jesus fucking christ. Are you okay?” Mark inched forward, hovering a hand in the general area of his injury, wincing when Yukhei’s face scrunched up in pain. It looked like he was going to pass out any second, and the yelling was only getting closer and closer to their location. They would be found any second. 

“It’s nothing,” Yukhei rasped, finishing the knot around the jacket he had tied above his thigh. His pants were soaked through with blood, and he had scratches all up and down his face, red dripping from a busted lip. Mark nearly ripped his jacket off, feeling tears gather in his eyes when Yukhei hissed in pain as he started patting away at the blood on his face. 

“Nothing my ass,” Mark growled, eyes catching the trembles in Yukhei’s hand as he steadily worked on the knife wound. His heart thudded violently against his chest as heard the men getting closer, unconsciously curling closer to Yukhei. Mark’s hands had gone slippery with blood, fighting through the burning in his throat as he desperately pressed on the wound, trying to ignore the small whimpers that Yukhei let out. 

Yukhei’s eyes were fluttering shut, his head lolling slowly onto Mark’s shoulder, his breathing becoming more labored. He mumbled something about being unprofessional, burying his face into the crook of Mark’s neck, hot breath coating his collar. Mark pressed harder on the wound, letting a few tears slip when he felt Yukhei start silently sobbing into his neck. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. This is m-my job, but I got you into t-this mess,” Yukhei stuttered, voice breaking as he took sharp breaths to avoid feeling the pain. Mark didn’t answer, vision going blurry from hot, blinding tears. 

“Just stay awake. Please. I need you to stay awake.” 

“If we survive this, I’ll take you out on a proper date.” Mark watched as Yukhei’s eyes slid shut, mouth hanging open from shock. Just as he was about to answer, the door to the room they were hiding in slammed open, and Mark felt his vision go black. 

.

 

So. They  _ did  _ survive. Thankfully, the ones behind that door had been immediately followed by Ten and Taeyong, who were no match for their kidnappers. According to Jungwoo, their agency’s doctor, Mark and Yukhei had refused to let go of each other even when they were unconscious (Mark had taken this news with a red face, refusing to look at Yukhei). It had taken three months for the wound to heal, but Yukhei was still limping and was out of commission for assignments, so they had spent an awful amount of time together.

And so. He did get his date.  Well, he was about to. Mark paced back and forth in front of his mirror, checking over his outfit again. Cute, but stylish shirt? Check. Jean jacket that’s a different shade than his jeans? Check. Black jeans that had rips that made his legs look longer and  _ not  _ shorter? Check.

Mark gulped, checking the time again. 2 minutes. He was going on a date with an assassin. He was going on a date with a fucking  _ assassin.  _

Donghyuck and Jaemin had nearly pissed themselves when he had told them about Yukhei officially unofficially asking him out, not able to believe him. Mark had been proved right when Yukhei had suddenly appeared as a patron at the wee hours of 4 am, a bouquet of flowers and coffee in hand, along with a cheesy note that said, “I can take you out in two different ways ;).” Mark had been harassed by his friends for 3 consecutive days, pummeled by constant texts about Yukhei all day. 

And today was the day. Mark fanned himself, taking a seat on the couch that directly faced his door. He was ready (well, not really, but it’s the thought that counts). 

A knock. 

Mark checked the time again. He stood up, pressing his clammy hands down his jeans.  

Another knock. 

Mark walked forward like a robot (should he smile when he opens the door? Should he say something? Was he underdressed? Oh my god, he hadn’t checked to see if his hair looked good—), resting his hand on the door knob. He took one more deep breath before swinging it open. 

“Your prince charming is here,” Yukhei grinned, lighting up his entire face. He was leaning against the side of Mark’s door, taking up the whole space. 

“Jaemin told you, didn’t he?” Mark groaned, allowing Yukhei to swing an arm over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him. Yukhei’s laughter spilled out, finding its way to Mark’s heart and making its home there, sitting snuggly amongst all of the fond memories they had. 

“It’s cute. You’re cute.” 

.

 

“Mark. Mark. Baby. Mark,” Yukhei whisper yelled, rolling over to face his long term boyfriend, hooking a leg over his waist. He grinned in triumph when Mark slid open one eye, scowling but burrowing closer to Yukhei anyways. 

“What,” Mark grumbled, hiding his face in Yukhei’s chest as he sleepily wrapped an arm around his waist. Yukhei let out a small giggle; past midnight and before 8 am, Mark tended to regress to one syllable words, his vocabulary shrinking to that of a four year old’s. 

“We’re getting married,” Yukhei whispered back, unable to help the large smile that overtook his face, cheeks hurting as he wrapped himself around Mark even tighter. Mark rolled his eyes, smiling back. It was still slightly dark outside considering it was 5 am, but he could see the megawatt smile on Yukhei’s face. 

“I know we are, you nut, I proposed three days ago,” Mark huffed, pressing a small kiss to the corner of Yukhei’s mouth, only to be attacked by a barrage of kisses seconds later. Mark whined, pulling back only to lean forward and press a gentle, slow kiss against Yukhei’s pout, smiling into the kiss. He felt Yukhei’s hand brush against the nape of his neck, a shiver running through his body as they pressed closer together. They pulled away, giggles filling the early morning air. 

“I love you.” 

“I know.” 

“I’m breaking off our engagement.” 

  
  



End file.
